Hotter than July

When I was a kid and summer vacations lasted forever, July was always the best part. By July, the lakes had warmed up to the point where you didn’t risk losing appendages when you swam in them. Besides, you couldn’t go into the water before June 24, the feast of St. John the Baptist. He had to bless the water. Fourth of July was when you went to the parade (And see the governor! Who flew in on a helicopter!) Then we’d all traipse to my grandmother’s house for the rest of the day. The black cherries were finally ripe and we’d crawl over the tree in her backyard picking them. And of course, there were fireworks over the river at night. My mother always took her vacation from the factory the last week of July, so we could look forward to going “up North” or, more likely, yet another trip to Niagara Falls. July was busy, fun and memorable.

This July promises to be memorable, too. Time, Inc. has decided to divest itself of the vestiges of journalistic ethics it was clinging to and will provide all of Matt Cooper’s notes about his sources for the Plame leak. Lawrence O’Donnell claims the notes will name Karl Rove as the leak. Although I doubt Karl would leave such a clear fingerprint on the evidence, one can easily imagine that having someone that high up as the source would be good enough for Certain Conservative Columnists. By God, you could light the tundra by the glint in Bob Novak’s eye when he had Karl on the phone. So if it does turn out to be Karl, I can’t wait for the White House statement (written by Karl, of course). It will be a masterpiece of obfuscation and by the time this is all over, they’ll have us believing Valerie Plame leaked her own name.

And Sandra Day O’Connor spoiled a lot of vacation plans. (BTW – you could probably get a rental cheap since the cancellations by Congressional staffers began right after her announcement) Does anyone really believe Bush will nominate a “moderate”? Not since he owes his political life to the radical right. No, children. This will be bloody and protracted. The prospect of a filibuster during the dog days of summer looms. Somebody check the fuse box in the Capitol -- I wouldn’t put it past Bill Frist to fiddle with the wires so the AC fails.

Ah, there are times I wish I were ten again. This July will be one of them